


Trick and Treat

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 07:23:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4555797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone forgets - Robin and Red Robin could be a terrifying team, if they ever wanted to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trick and Treat

**Author's Note:**

> Halloween Prompt 2014
> 
> There’s implied ‘they make a good team’ here, but mostly that they make a terrifying one. Also, I never write Bat-baddies. Why don’t I do that. (Supplemental listening: ‘Andare’ by Ludovico Einaudi)

Crane smiled as the Bat screamed from his cell. _Oh_ , how he _screamed_. It was music, literally, with crescendos and diminuendos, vibrato and slurs. And with the whimpers and shouts of the others, he couldn’t stop himself from closing his eyes in pleasure. It was turning into the perfect song on this Halloween night, better than he’d ever hoped for.

Funny what a little deception and fear gas could do. Trick or treat, indeed. Though, perhaps this was more a trick _and_ treat.

Nightwing shrieked for Robin over and over, though with the other jumble of words he kept saying, it was hard to tell which one he was referring to. Perhaps all of them. The shouts of “Dad!” and “The Joker is coming!” and _“James, no!”_ were the most common for dear old Batgirl. Red Hood was similar, wailing for a mother, and someone named Bruce. The one called Spoiler just kept sobbing for an unnamed child.

And the last…well, she didn’t say anything. Just sat in the corner of her room and stared, tears streaming from wide eyes behind her black mask. Crane didn’t even know her name, and no one was really in the correct mind to share that information. But there was a bat across the chest of her costume, and that was claim enough for the Scarecrow.

He paraded the hallway royally. Stepping slowly, taking in every cry, every yell, every thump of a fist against the wall as he passed the cells. He was glad he hadn’t made the choice earlier to have them all in the same room, have them claw and beat each other to pieces. This was much more fun, having them suffer alone.

At least for now. The night was still young.

The henchmen stationed at the doors and end of the hallway all shifted nervously. Batman gave another agonized roar and a few of the men jumped. One tugged restlessly on his gasmask, and Crane almost laughed. As if that was _really_ going to save them from the fear toxin, should he decide to use it on them.

“Uh…uh, sir?” A guard by the back door stuttered, stepping forward. His partner didn’t move; remained lazily leaned against the doorframe, gun loose in his hand.

“Hm?”

“Not all of the vigilantes are here.” His voice was muffled by the contraption on his face, but it didn’t hide the terror he was clearly feeling. “Our agents claim they have not found Robin yet.”

“I’m aware.” Crane nodded, turning away to repeat his path down the hallway. “But he is merely a child. There’s not much he can do at this stage, other than run. But I doubt he’d leave his allies here to rot. He’ll be captured soon enough.”

“Of…of course, sir.” The guard sighed. Suddenly there was the quiet sound of that backdoor closing, and a soft thump that sounded like a body hitting the ground. Crane paused in his walk. “But…sir?”

Crane didn’t turn back. What is it, they say? Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Quickly, his eyes scanned the area, focusing on the decrepit rafters above.

“Hm?”

“I think…there’s another one out there, other than Robin. Another one we didn’t catch.” The guard sounded closer, and Crane’s first thought was to reprimand him for leaving his post. “Dr. Crane, I think you forgot one.”

“Did I?” Crane asked nonchalantly. “Who?”

There was the rustle of a gasmask being removed. The voice was no longer hindered, but also no longer afraid. Now, it was angry. “Me.”

Scarecrow spun around to see a dark-haired masked man – well, _barely_ a man. He couldn’t have been over nineteen – still in his henchman’s uniform. Crane’s eyes flickered over to the door that he was supposedly guarding. The door was triggered, he could see it now. A small machine of some sort sat at the corner of the threshold, ready to push it open at this boy’s command. He could also see that his other guard hadn’t been leaning against it but rather propped there unconscious, so when the door opened, he fell.

It hadn’t been the sound of Robin sneaking in at all. No, Robin – _a_ Robin – was already inside. Had been for…who knows how long.

Spoiler screamed again, and for some reason this time it sounded like a laugh.

The song was over.

Crane wheeled back around, sprinting down the hall. Now the screams and wails of the Batman and his friends sounded like cackles and giggles. But they weren’t the sounds he was worried about. No, it was the sounds he wasn’t hearing, _that’s_ what he was worried about.

The masked boy wasn’t chasing after him.

Crane turned the corner, barreling past the men stationed there, and throwing the doors to the next ward open.

And he was forced to freeze.

The gambit was a large one, and the hospital Crane planned to store his prizes in even larger. He’d brought on a lot of men to help make sure this plan was a success.

And here they all were, save the few in the other hallway, piled against and on top of each other. They were all handcuffed and bound, and most stunned. The ones who weren’t, struggling uselessly against their ties. There was one man, near the bottom, who was stripped of his uniform.

And on top of it all, sat one little boy in a hooded yellow cape and bright green boots.

He scoffed in annoyance, but didn’t move from his makeshift throne. “About time.”

Without thought, Crane turned again, ready to run back through the other hallway. But there was nowhere to go. The other boy was standing there, a staff in hand, the guards Crane had just pushed through not _seconds_ before already down and out.  Crane felt his eyes widen. When did he…how was he…how _long_ had he…

The older boy smirked, but his voice was still monotone and angry. “Sorry, Robin. The doc here was too busy admiring his handiwork.”

“Of course he was.” Robin’s voice was equally emotionless, equally furious. “Well, then. Would you like the first punch, Red Robin? Or may I take it?”

Red Robin cocked his head, eyes never leaving Crane. Crane backed up a step, and was surprised to run into someone. He turned halfway, seeing Robin stare blankly up at him. Now when did _he_ move?

Crane felt his heartbeat quicken as he looked between the two. A thought came to him – did I accidentally gas myself? No…no, that’s impossible. I am _not_ afraid of children! Not even masked ones! No way, no ho-

“I didn’t get you a birthday present this year.” Red Robin suddenly said. “You can have this one.”

Crane felt himself gasp as he looked down at Robin. The boy’s face remained empty for a second before a vicious and bloodthirsty grin spread across his cheeks.

“Hell, I’ll give you the first five.” Red Robin shrugged, an equally malicious smile, albeit smaller, appearing on his face as well. “That should cover Christmas too, right?”

Crane felt himself hunch over, curl into himself as he backed against the wall, both Robins stepping eagerly towards him.

“Oh, it should.” Robin agreed. Suddenly the howl of Nightwing echoed through the air. Robin’s grin grew wider. “It should do so _wonderfully_.”


End file.
